


Scream

by Mimsys



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5935399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimsys/pseuds/Mimsys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Aelin screams, her court comes running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scream

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Queen of Shadows.

Aelin doesn’t scream often. In fights or otherwise, she had always maintained that it revealed weaknesses that she would prefer to keep silent; because of this and her pride, soft grunts or curses are usually the most to pass her lips regardless of if she is motivated by pain or fear. Knowing this, her fae guards were running before the first scream could subside into ragged breaths, calloused hands drawing swords and daggers mid-step. Rowan crashed through the door to her bedroom first, a snarl on his lips as he bared in canines in a silent threat, ready to rip out the throat of whoever could have hurt his queen, whoever had made it past his defenses. But the room was empty except for his Carranam, and he stopped so suddenly that Aedion ran into him. 

“Fireheart?” Rowan asked softly, sheathing his weapons and holding a hand up to indicate that the blond half fae behind him should hold his position at the door. “Fireheart, are you alright?” She was sitting up in bed, skin white as the snow on the mountains of Terrasen, blue eyes flashing with their gold but blank and empty. His queen was wearing a mere slip of a nightgown, creamy fabric against scarred skin, and the lack of sleeves showed the goosebumps on every inch of her bared skin. Although obviously shaken, she had yet to speak. 

“Aelin?” He took another step closer, tension building in his gut. “Did you have a nightmare?” She’d had them before, of course, but he was usually by her side to soothe her after them; this night, however, he’d been researching with Aedion in her library. One more step towards his silent queen, eyes running over her form to make sure she wasn’t injured; besides how pale she was, the glassy look to her eyes, and rapid rise and fall of her chest, she looked fine. Safe, but unsettled. One more step…

One step too close, apparently, because her nimble hands darted for the knife he knew she kept under her pillow; she threw it, at his heart, aim unerring and fatal had he been a human, and he knocked it aside with the flat of his hand, watching how she coiled with tension when it clattered against the ground. Whatever nightmare she was locked inside, he was glad indeed that she didn’t have her magic back yet; if she did, they’d be burning by now.

“Aelin, fireheart, I would never hurt you.” Not outside of training, at least, but now wasn’t a time to tease. “It’s me, Aelin. My Queen, please.”

There was a long pause in which Rowan thought she might go for one of her many hidden weapons but then the young woman finally spoke, shoulders sagging. “Rowan?” She asked softly, eyes finally settling on him, finally recognizing the fae who had her blood in his veins. He nodded and she extended an arm towards him, hating how it trembled. “I could have hurt you.”

“I knew that when I claimed you.” Rowan soothed, moving his hand away from his many weapons. “‘To whatever end’ certainly includes a nightmare or two.”

“You could always hurt us.” Aedion added, shaking his head once as the tattooed fae strode forward to kneel in front of his lady’s bed, looking up at her. The blond remained by the door, but not for much longer. “But never as much with blades as by shutting us out. What happened?”

Aelin settled a hand in Rowan’s short, silvery hair, stroking her fingers through it gently. “Just a nightmare.” She murmured, ducking her head to avert her gaze from Aedion - and wincing when that meant she was staring directly at Rowan. “Just a nightmare.”

“Was it...?” Rowan asked softly, and then the pair exchanged a silent conversation that set Aedion’s teeth on edge. Who had hurt his queen and cousin so badly? He would make them pay for her tears if she would let them, would make them beg for forgiveness that was not his to give. Rowan stood, shifting to his feet just long enough to join Aelin on the bed, wrapping her up in a blanket and tucking him up against his chest. Aedion hesitated, unsure if he was being dismissed but wanting further proof that his cousin was safe. “Come on.” The other male instructed softly, “It’s one of those times that Fae are allowed to fuss.” 

Their queen huffed softly at that but did not protest, so Aedion joined them, sitting facing the pair so that he could meet their eyes, see the protective calm in Rowan’s expression and the softening look in Aelin’s gaze as she drifted back off to sleep in the fae’s familiar arms.

When she woke again, there was a warm mass to either side of her, both pressed close enough that she could feel the weaponry hidden under their clothing. Her face was buried against Rowan’s neck and she breathed in the scents of pine and home, hands clenched in his shirt as she clung to him; they were chest to chest, flush against each other. Behind her, separated by a blanket, was Aedion, who was just as close, one hand resting lightly on the top of her hip, a protective touch she could not fault him when she remembered the panic in his eyes, so similar to her own, the night before. Aelin shifted, stretching out her scarred legs beneath the blankets, and both men pulled themselves quickly out of their sleep, curling protectively around the queen they had thought they might lose when they heard her scream. “Morning.” She mumbled, pulling away from Rowan’s chest so she could lay on her back, no longer spooned up between the two males but still laying between them.

“I hope you slept well.” Aedion murmured as he sat up, sounding hesitant to speak since Aelin was so careful with her pride, so quick to snap when offered help. “I was cold.” He added, tone daring her to challenge him. “Figured I’d share warmth with you if Rowan was allowed to.” There was a soft, male chuckle from the other side of the bed and a bemused snort from Aelin, who let the lie stand. She shifted, laying out horizontally between them; this time, her head rested on Aedion’s thigh, and her legs tangled with Rowan’s under the blankets.

“It was a cold night.” She allowed softly, ignoring the fact that it was mere weeks before the Summer Solstice. “But we shouldn’t make a habit of it. I wouldn’t want my court to think they can all share my bed.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work for the Throne of Glass fandom, so please comment and/or kudo if you enjoyed so I know if people want me to write more!


End file.
